Collaborators

by John Hodge

  Bulgakov They plotted against you.

  Stalin No!

  Bulgakov That’s what they’ve confessed to.

  Stalin Three of my very, very best friends and you sit there and tell me they’re plotting against me!

  Bulgakov It’s just what’s written here –

  Stalin is distraught. He walks around.

  Takes a confession and reads it.

  Stalin This is absurd. If these confessions were true, it would mean that the entire Revolution was nothing more than a front for a long-term Trotskyite-bourgeois plot.

  Bulgakov You’re right.

  Stalin As far as I’m concerned, those men are innocent. These so called confessions are merely evidence of someone else’s mischief.

  He returns to the desk.

  Hesitates.

  And yet . . .

  Bulgakov What?

  Stalin Nothing.

  Bulgakov You’re worried.

  Stalin No!

  Bulgakov What is it?

  Stalin Well . . . they signed them.

  Bulgakov Yes, but that doesn’t mean –

  Stalin They signed them!

  Bulgakov Joseph – you said yourself – it’s impossible. They cannot be true. There is nothing to worry about.

  Stalin Oh God, I feel sick. The betrayal!

  Bulgakov Calm down. Please. Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding.

  Stalin Misunderstanding! Confessing to conspiracy to murder me, disband the Party, and install the puppet leader of a combined Anglo-German military dictatorship. What scale of misunderstanding are we talking about here?

  Bulgakov Well – you know – someone said something to someone else who said something else to someone else that got taken out of context and overheard and then someone else said something and . . . you can imagine it all ends up in a mess. And then you get these! Worthless. Nothing.

  Stalin You think so?

  Bulgakov Yes.

  Stalin You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?

  Bulgakov You’ve known these men for years.

  Stalin Yes.

  Bulgakov Three of your very, very best friends.

  Stalin Yes.

  Bulgakov So, if you ask me, they’re obviously innocent. But – for everyone’s peace of mind, not least yours – it’s not going to hurt to make a few, simple enquiries?

  Stalin A few . . . simple enquiries. No, you’re right. That’s not going to hurt, is it?

  Bulgakov No. Not hurt anyone. So let’s stay calm.

  Stalin Yes. Calm.

  A beat.

  They signed them!

  Bulgakov Joseph! . . . Calm.

  Stalin obeys.

  Now watch.

  He takes a pen and scribbles in the margin of one of the confessions.

  ‘Make further enquiries . . . J.S.’ That’ll sort it all out.

  Stalin Mikhail . . . What can I say?

  Lost for words, he hugs Bulgakov.

  Then he steps back and picks up the latest manuscript from the desk.

  He presses it into his hand.

  Exit Stalin.

  Bulgakov turns and approaches the bed.

  He sees that it is empty.

  He calls offstage.

  Bulgakov Yelena? Yelena! I’m home. Please – come back to bed.

  No reply.

  Enter Vladimir and Stepan.

  Stepan raps on the table as they stride.

  Vladimir is holding a bloodstained handkerchief to his cheek.

  Vladimir Bulgakov!

  Bulgakov Vladimir – what the hell do you want?

  Vladimir We need your car!

  Bulgakov What?

  Vladimir Your car. Now.

  Bulgakov Are you all right?

  Vladimir What? This – shaving, that’s all. Listen, your driver will accept orders only from you, so please – we need you to come with us.

  Bulgakov So where are we going?

  Vladimir To make an arrest.

  Bulgakov An arrest! Who?

  Vladimir consults a list.

  Vladimir I don’t know. Some loser. We’ve been up all night. About one in the morning. The phone rings. It’s my boss, screaming at me. ‘Someone’s been plotting against Stalin. Get out there. Make further enquiries.’ So we’ve been all over town, begging rides from one place to another. How do they expect us to arrest people – without a car? What way is that to run an organ of state security?

  Bulgakov You’re right. It’s ridiculous.

  A beat.

  Vladimir You got the scene?

  Bulgakov Yes. Of course.

  He delves into his coat.

  Vladimir Gimme.

  Bulgakov hands over the latest instalment.

  He watches Vladimir skim through it. Still dabbing at the cut.

  Bulgakov You weren’t shaving.

  Vladimir Some women get upset when they think they’re never going to see their husbands again. Not that mine would complain! This is good. I like it. He’s in prison. But they can’t break him. In fact he converts the guards to Marxism! I love it!

  Stepan hurries offstage.

  He returns with a Man and Woman in their nightclothes, both in handcuffs.

  Vladimir consults a list.

  Am I right? You are the General Secretary of the Turkmenistan All-Union Communist Party?

  Man Yes, I am.

  Vladimir And you are his wife?

  Woman Yes.

  Vladimir In town for the congress?

  Man Yes. That’s correct.

  Vladimir You have a return ticket to Turkmenistan?

  Man Yes.

  He produces it from his pocket and Vladimir snatches it away.

  Vladimir You may claim a refund, Comrade.

  Man What have I done?

  Vladimir Conspiracy to assassinate Stalin, wreck the economy, overthrow the government, restore the Tsar. And so forth.

  Man Please – I’ll confess. To anything. But let my wife go. Please.

  Vladimir Shut up.

  Man Please, let her go!

  Stepan punches the Man once in the stomach. The Man sinks to his knees.

  Bulgakov pulls Vladimir aside.

  Bulgakov Vladimir! That man is an old Bolshevik! He probably stormed the Winter Palace.

  Vladimir So?

  Bulgakov He doesn’t seem a very likely traitor.

  Vladimir Oh, how naive you are. Listen, Mikhail: a man may appear innocent. He may even be ‘innocent’ as the term is conventionally understood. But he will have what we call objective characteristics which clearly point the other way.

  Bulgakov Objective characteristics?

  Vladimir In this case: that he is in a position of power.

  Bulgakov And that’s enough to make him a potential traitor, is it?

  Vladimir More than enough.

  Bulgakov His wife? What about her?

  Vladimir She has the objective characteristic of being his wife.

  The Woman turns to Bulgakov.

  Woman Please, Comrade – tell your men – we have done nothing wrong. We are good citizens.

  Vladimir That’s how it works when you make enquiries.

  Vladimir and Stepan exit with the Man and Woman.

  Bulgakov is alone on the stage.

  Enter the two Actors.

  Actor One is in prison uniform.

  Actor Two wears a police hat and jacket.

  Actor Two Dzughashvili! You have corrupted too many guards to your treacherous ideology!

  Actor One So what? Are you going to beat me? I do not care. You can never break me!

  Actor Two No – we are sending you to Siberia and from there you will never come back! Ha ha ha!

  Exit Actor Two.

  Enter Grigory stage right.

  Grigory Mikhail!

  Bulgakov Grigory – what are you doing out here?

  Grigory Looking for you.

  Bulgakov For me?

  Grigory I need your help.

  Bulga
kov Tell me – anything I can do –

  Grigory My work is banned now. I’m banned! Everything I’ve ever written and everything I ever write in the future.

  Bulgakov Oh Christ.

  Grigory Unless I give in – unless I deliver a suitably damning self-criticism.

  Bulgakov Grigory –

  Grigory I refused. So I’m allowed to go on breathing, but that’s it, that’s the limit of my permissible creative activity. They buried me alive, Mikhail.

  Bulgakov I’m sorry.

  Grigory Can you help me?

  Bulgakov hugs Grigory.

  Exit Grigory.

  Actor One They can send me to Siberia, but they will never break me. I am not Dzughashvili any more. I am Stalin!

  Exit Actor One.

  Bulgakov turns back towards the table, cupboard, etc.

  Bulgakov Hello? Hello? Anyone home?

  No one. Then he has a idea.

  He slides open the cupboard.

  Sergei – will you come out?

  Sergei emerges cautiously.

  Where is everyone?

  Sergei Mrs Bulgakov – she has gone out – distributing food.

  Bulgakov Oh. Well, that’s fine. That’s all right. We have plenty.

  Sergei And Vasilly and Praskovya – they both went to work yesterday – but they never came back.

  Bulgakov Never came back?

  Sergei No.

  Bulgakov What does that mean?

  Sergei I don’t know. They didn’t come back.

  Bulgakov How strange. Not like them at all. Still, they’ll be back soon. I’m sure.

  Sergei Mr Bulgakov – can I tell you about something? It happened at work.

  Bulgakov Of course.

  Sergei The manager of the factory. He couldn’t meet the targets. It wasn’t his fault. We worked hard, extra shifts – so did he. But it still wasn’t enough. So he lied. Claimed we had made more tractors than we really had. It was the wrong thing to do, but . . . He was found out, of course. They were coming to arrest him but he committed suicide.

  Bulgakov I see.

  Sergei What do you think of that?

  Bulgakov Well, it’s obviously a tragedy, for the man and his family.

  Sergei They said he was a wrecker, a saboteur, and that’s why the targets weren’t being met.

  Bulgakov Yes . . . Well . . . I suppose, you have to look at it from the point of view of the authorities. Clearly this man had . . . objective characteristics. That’s what it is. That’s why he was under suspicion. That’s how enquiries work. Of course, there’s no way that I could have known that.

  Sergei I’m sorry, Comrade, I do not have your education –

  Bulgakov Of course. You see, a man may appear innocent, but his position, of power and responsibility, means that he must inevitably be suspect. Think about it: the factory fails to meet its targets, he lies, and then he commits suicide before he can be arrested. Possibly to protect someone else. You put it all together . . .

  Sergei He left a note on his desk, denouncing the whole system.

  Bulgakov Well, that fits in, doesn’t it? Don’t you think so? It has to, doesn’t it?

  Sergei Like Praskovya and Vasilly, then?

  Bulgakov What about them?

  Sergei They have objective characteristics too, I think.

  Bulgakov No.

  Sergei He was a landowner. A possible Tsarist?

  Bulgakov Vasilly is harmless.

  Sergei And she teaches history – perhaps she subverts through counter-revolutionary propaganda.

  Bulgakov That’s not necessarily how it will be taken. There is, I’m sure, a perfectly innocent explanation for their absence.

  Silence.

  Sergei The suicide note – left by my boss – when the police came, they arrested anyone who had read it.

  Bulgakov That’s just a precaution. That’s all.

  A beat.

  You didn’t read the note, did you, Sergei?

  Sergei stares at Bulgakov. Turns away.

  The sound of a knock at the door.

  Sergei scuttles into his cupboard and pulls it fast.

  Enter the Driver.

  Driver Your car is ready, sir.

  Bulgakov Thank you – I’ll be out in a moment.

  Exit the Driver.

  Sergei.

  No response.

  Enter Yelena.

  They both stop and look at one another.

  A frosty silence from Yelena.

  Bulgakov moves as though everything is normal.

  Bulgakov Did the food go down well?

  Yelena says nothing.

  Yelena –

  Yelena Men and women are being arrested, for nothing at all. Every morning, another apartment is empty. And the first question they are asked is: who is in this conspiracy with you?

  Bulgakov has no reply.

  Yelena walks across to the gramophone.

  She places a record on, winds it up, and drops the stylus in place.

  It is their tune.

  She looks at her husband. He cannot meet her gaze.

  He turns away.

  The music plays.

  Yelena turns and walks away. She exits.

  Bulgakov stands alone.

  The music plays on.

  After a while, it sticks.

  The needle jumps, over and over.

  Bulgakov walks across to the gramophone.

  He lifts the stylus. Removes the record.

  Enter the two Actors. They busy themselves with their sack of props and costumes.

  Vladimir and Stepan follow as before.

  Bulgakov approaches.

  Vladimir I’m being followed.

  Bulgakov Isn’t everyone?

  Vladimir Of course, that’s normal – but now I’m really being followed.

  Bulgakov Is there a difference?

  Vladimir Yes – of course there is! It’s . . . You wouldn’t understand.

  Bulgakov I don’t.

  Vladimir You’ve changed.

  Bulgakov Have I?

  Vladimir That man we arrested. Do you think he was guilty?

  Bulgakov You said he was.

  Vladimir Forget what I said.

  Bulgakov He had objective characteristics.

  Vladimir Forget them. Do you think he was guilty?

  Bulgakov He confessed, didn’t he?

  Vladimir He confessed. Yes. To Stepan.

  Bulgakov Well, there you are.

  Vladimir So did his wife.

  A beat.

  There we are.

  A beat.

  How do you feel about the play? About your play?

  Bulgakov What does it matter what I think of it? If I like it or don’t like it, so what? I’m doing it so that my play Molière can be performed again.

  Vladimir I want your critical assessment.

  Bulgakov All right. It’s a . . . solid, if unflashy piece of drama. An effective account of . . .

  Vladimir Bullshit! You expect me to believe that? From the man who wrote The White Guard, you’re telling me that’s your opinion on this?

  Bulgakov remains silent.

  You’ve convinced yourself, have you? Of what else have you convinced yourself?

  Bulgakov I still stand opposed to everything you represent.

  Vladimir Sure you do.

  A pause.

  Vladimir stares at him.

  Bulgakov breaks it off.

  He walks away. Sits down at the table.

  Exit Vladimir, Stepan, the two Actors.

  Bulgakov sits alone a moment.

  Enter Stalin with a large bundle of files under each arm.

  He drops them with a thump on to the desk.

  Stalin I’m not happy about this.

  Bulgakov About what?

  Stalin About what? Well, it only turns out that the entire USSR is riddled with traitors. That within every single institution: the Party, the army, academia, culture, science, industry, and so on – there are millio
ns – yes, millions – of spies, traitors, wreckers, counter-revolutionaries, and Trotskyite capitalist bourgeois Tsarists!

  A beat.

  And it’s all your fault.

  Bulgakov My fault!

  Stalin ‘Make further enquiries.’

  Bulgakov What?

  Stalin That’s what you wrote.

  Bulgakov Yes, I did, but –

  Stalin – and this is what happens! A conspiracy beyond the human imagination. Your creation, Mikhail!

  Bulgakov That’s not really fair. I mean, just because my instruction uncovered it – that doesn’t make me responsible. Does it?

  Stalin I would have let sleeping dogs lie.

  Bulgakov But Joseph –

  Stalin Each confession leads to another fifty. It’s an exponential catastrophe!

  Bulgakov I’m sorry! I didn’t mean this to happen.

  From the stacks of papers, Stalin grabs several at random. Reads from them.

  Stalin Consider the following, uncovered only this morning. There are students in Leningrad who plan to assassinate me. An aeronautical engineer in Novosibirsk who designs planes that crash. A Kazakh dairy worker puts nails in the butter, and a vet in the Ukraine poisons twenty million horses. Practically every employee on the trans-Siberian railway spies for Japan. An industrial commissar in Magnitogorsk spends every waking hour orchestrating the production of defective steel. And thousands upon thousands of people freely engage in rootless cosmopolitanism.

  Bulgakov Sorry?

  Stalin Being Jewish. And spying for Germany.

  Bulgakov Is that likely?

  Stalin It’s possible. Anything is possible. But you know what’s scary – what’s really scary – is they’re all connected.

  Bulgakov Are you certain of that?

  Stalin You think I’m making it up?

  Bulgakov No!

  Stalin What am I going to do?

  Bulgakov I don’t know . . .

  Stalin You don’t know?

  Bulgakov No.

  Stalin OK . . . I’ll deal with it myself. I’ll sift through them, one by one, confession by confession, network by network, step by step, for as long as it takes, because – you understand, of course – there’s no one else I can trust. I’ll do this. You finish the play.

  He swivels the typewriter round so that it faces Bulgakov.

  Now Stalin starts work. He snatches at sheets of paper from the stacks of files.

  Scrawls in the margins, cross-references, compares, places the sheets in new piles, rearranges, etc.

  While doing so, he mutters to himself.